Departed trail & Bitter trials.

Eng. 24 2016

Written in the shaking doors

Is the world

being tossed around. 

Life outside those doors is becoming dark as the turning clouds. 

Whose skies are stuck on dark steroids.

Big, curled in shapes, and making thunder roar

From those dark muscles.

I’m afraid of the iron grip of the storm seating on me.

The rumbling earth that cracks buildings,

 the strong winds that kick around cars,

And the feeling that it’s all out of God’s control.

All the things in this storm is becoming a conditional noise

when the rain of thunder

mutes my world.